Diary of 4th Corporal Bartlett Yancey Malone, January 16, 1863

And the 16 day was a very pritty warm day and we had orders to cook too days rations we was expecting the Yankees to cross the River again but they did not

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 28

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan, Friday, February 24, 1865

Rained all night Boys all wet. offs of 33d. no blankets & lay on cabin floor. rains all day and heavy wind, at 12. see no land. at 5 P. M. at Grants Pass. an draw eats. have to give up some to our officers. I am ordered on duty. wind up so that the gulf is not safe boat draws too much water to go through the pass. quite a no sea sick today. rations running low.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, p. 575

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan, Saturday, February 25, 1865

Slept well, rained all night. At 10. a. m. start through pass. aground at 11. Brown with 4 co of our Regt passes us here. Men runing short of rations & begin to complain at 2 P. M. Small steamer Mustang comes to our relief. transfer men and baggage. Ship floats fast an hour again right in the pass abreast of Ft Powell, when she gets off Mustang runs alongside and transfers back. 3 reb deserters from Mobile come to us on Mustang. about 5.30 Ship touches at Ft. Gaines. thence to 4 mile above Ft. Morgan, at 7. P. M. disembark, march through sand ¾ of mile to camp. on the beach of Gulf. sleep within 200 yds of Gulf. breakers Ligh & night clear. a Grand sight. 30 000 men here now.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, p. 575

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, Thursday, January 1, 1863

Bright and clear, warm and pleasant. How well do I remember two short years ago today when we took a sleigh ride and made a regular family visit at Uncle Tim's. Since then I have traveled over four thousand miles, five hundred and eighty of which I marched with gun on my shoulder; have seen more vice and drunkenness than I ever supposed existed, yet I hope I am morally no worse than when surrounded by kind relatives and friends. An orderly call beat immediately after reveille this morning at which time we received orders to cook our rations and be ready by half past seven. We cooked our fresh pork and by the appointed time had it in our haversacks, and our knapsacks strapped on our backs, ready for the march. We went eight miles and camped close to a small town called Lafayette, situated on the Memphis and Charleston R. R. As soon as we had pitched our tents, Chas. Berry and myself went out one mile from camp and killed a hog. We are now the first regiment of the first brigade, commanded by Brigadier-General McArthur, of Gen. Hamilton's corps, of the left wing of Gen. Grant's army. We were put in the rear of the brigade today as a special guard to keep up the stragglers.

SOURCE: Seth James Wells, The Siege of Vicksburg: From the Diary of Seth J. Wells, Including Weeks of Preparation and of Occupation After the Surrender, pp. 24-5

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Saturday, November 1, 1862

Corinth. Orders were given to Battery to cook three days' rations in their haversacks and three days' in the wagons, all ready to march on the following morning.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 11

Diary of Musician David Lane, August 30, 1863

Crab Orchard, Ky. We arrived at 10 a. m., making ten miles from Lancaster this morning. Crab Orchard is a lovely town of about one thousand inhabitants. We are encamped about one mile south of the village, in a lovely spot, shut in on all sides by high hills and forests. To the south, far in the distance, the Cumberland Mountains raise their blue peaks as landmarks to guide us on our course when next we move.

From what I see and hear of the surrounding country, the boys will have to depend on their rations for food.

Soldiers are strange beings. No sooner were our knapsacks unslung than every man of us went to work as though his very life depended on present exertions. We staked out streets, gathered stakes and poles with which to erect our tents, and now, at 3 p. m., behold! a city has arisen, like a mushroom, from the ground. Everything is done as though it were to be permanent, when no man knows how long we may remain or how soon we may move on.

Part of our route from Camp Parks lay through a country made historic by the chivalric deeds of Daniel Boone. We passed his old log fort, and the high bluff from which he hurled an Indian and dashed him in pieces on the rocks below. At the foot of the bluff is the cave in which he secreted himself when hard pressed by savages. His name is chiseled in the rock above the entrance. The place is now being strongly fortified.

We had a lively skirmish in Company G this morning. About a week ago the Brigade Surgeon ordered quinine and whiskey to be issued to every man in the brigade, twice daily. During our march the quinine had been omitted, but whiskey was dealt out freely.

Solon Crandall—the boy who picked the peaches while under fire at South Mountain—is naturally pugnacious, and whiskey makes him more so. This morning, while under the influence of his "ration," he undertook the difficult task of "running" Company G.

Captain Tyler, hearing the "racket," emerged from his tent and inquired the cause. At this Solon, being a firm believer in "non-intervention," waxed wroth. In reply he told the Captain, "It's none of your business. Understand, I am running this company, and if you don't go back to your tent and mind your own business, I'll have you arrested and sent to the bull pen. At this the Captain "closed" with his rival in a rough-and-tumble fight, in which the Captain, supported by a Sergeant, gained the day.

I have the most comfortable quarters now I have ever had. Our tent is composed of five pieces of canvas, each piece the size of our small tents—two for the top, or roof, the eaves three feet from the ground. The sides and ends are made to open one at a time or all at once, according to the weather. Three of us tent together, and we have plenty of room. We have bunks made of boards, raised two feet from the ground. This, with plenty of straw, makes a voluptuous bed. I received a letter from home last evening, dated August 13th. Oh, these vexatious postal delays; they are the bane of my life. I wonder if postmasters are human beings, with live hearts inside their jackets, beating in sympathetic unison with other hearts. I wonder did they ever watch and wait, day after day, until hope was well-nigh dead, conscious that love had sped its message and was anxiously awaiting a return. A letter from home! What thrilling emotions of pleasure; what unfathomable depths of joy it brings the recipient. It is not altogether the words, be they many or few, but the remembrances they call forth; the recognition of the well-known handwriting; old associations and past scenes are brought forth from the storehouse of the memory and held up to view. The joy of meeting—the agony of parting—all are lived over again.

We are having brigade inspection today, which is suggestive of a move, but our artillery has not turned up yet, and we will not take the field without it.

The health of our men has improved wonderfully since we reached Kentucky. A more rugged, hearty set of men I never saw than the few who are left. But, as I look around upon the noble fellows, now drawn up in line for inspection, a feeling of sadness steals over me. One short year ago nine hundred ninety-eight as brave, true men as ever shouldered gun marched forth to battle in their country's cause. Of all that noble band, only two hundred in line today. Where are the absent ones? Some, it is true, are home on furlough, but not all. They have left a bloody track from South Mountain's gory height through Antietam, Fredericksburg and Vicksburg to Jackson, Mississippi.

Oh, how I miss familiar faces!

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 86-89

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Monday, July 4, 1864

Eighty-eight years this day since our fathers gave to the world that important document setting forth the immortal truth that all men are born free with equal rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, and declaring the independence of these states from foreign domination—the Declaration of American Independence. On these great truths they founded a Republic. Today their posterity are in mourning for the loss of sons. In painful expectations, in earnest hope and fear, their eyes are turned toward two mighty armies contending on the same soil, one for those principles and that Republic, the other battling to maintain a dying rebellion inaugurated to overthrow the work of their hands, and to found a government on principles the reverse. Nothing was ever more plainly asserted in both words and deeds than this. Here within the scope of my vision, are 26,000 men suffering for the great sin that has cursed our people, offered a living sacrifice that it may not be destroyed but saved free from the contaminating influence that has stained our fair emblem—the boasted emblem of liberty; that the Union of the States shall not be broken by the hands of Treason; the foul assassin of Liberty! O, that the day of glorious triumph may soon come and with it the right, and stop the horrid evil of war! Let the demon that actuated it be destroyed! Apropos to the day are these beautiful lines from Longfellow, which Thompson recited:

* * * Sail on, O Ship of State!

Sail on, O Union, strong and great!

Humanity with all its fears,

With all the hopes of future years,

Is hanging breathless on thy fate!

We know what Master laid thy keel,

What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,

Who made each mast, and sail, and rope,

What anvils rang, what hammers beat,

In what a forge and what a heat

Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!

Fear not each sudden sound and shock,

'Tis of the wave and not the rock;

'Tis but the flapping of the sail,

And not a rent made by the gale!

In spite of rock and tempest's roar,

In spite of false lights on the shore,

Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee.

Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,

Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,

Are all with thee,—are all with thee!

Have had but little rest for two nights, owing to the storm and severity of my complaints. No rations since the 2nd. Two hours of terrible thunder storm. At the Sutler's "Shebang" I purchased a small wheat biscuit for 35 cents. This is my feast (after two days' fast) for July 4th, 1864.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, pp. 84-5

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Tuesday, July 5, 1864

We moved back to the old side, five of us, unbeknown to Rebs, it being improved by the removal of so many to the new part, and to get near the well we dug, for we were fifty rods from water. About 3 p. m. the mule teams came to the north gate; the boys cry "rations," the first issued for over sixty hours. I know no other reason for this than that the first night after the new part of the prison was occupied men carried off timbers of the old north wall for wood or for huts. On July 2nd Capt. Wirz directed that no rations be issued until every stick was replaced. He was heard to say on the 3rd, at the gate, that he would "learn the G-d d--n Yankees that he was in command and if the sons of b-----s died like hell, there would be enough left." I paid ten cents for a small rotting apple; it was good. The 6th, Sherman's men report Johnston whipped at all points; the 8th, behind the Chattahoochee, Sherman crossing on his flank; Grant's, Richmond in danger; Lee's cornbread line troubled. The Southern slave empire must come down. Billy Decker, prisoner since October, a Belle Islander, "Pinch's" old playmate, is stopping with us. He belongs to the 1st U. S. dragoons; is from Steuben county, New York.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 85

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Monday, May 5, 1862

After cooking three days' rations, we struck tents and loaded our wagons. The wagons were sent to Booneville, twelve miles from Jacinto, on the Mobile and Ohio Railroad. McNairy moved his men back to Jacinto, and quartered them in the various unoccupied houses. Allison's Company had splendid quarters in the court-house. Two scouts were sent out, one to Burnsville, the other to Glendale, six miles west of the former place, on the Memphis and Charleston Railroad. Found no Federals. We remained at Jacinto for some days, scouting and picketing.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 167

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, October 10, 1863

Had orders last night at 12 o'clock to cook rations and be ready to move at 4 A.M., but this morning nothing farther is said about it. The order was given in anticipation of an attack, in consequence of some demonstrations made by the enemy last night.

It is now three weeks since the great battle, and I understand that a great many of the enemy's dead are yet unburied. I found, four days after the fight, some of their wounded still unattended to. One of them, belonging to the Sixth Ohio, I made as comfortable as possible, by filling his canteen with water and furnishing him some matches.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 368

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan, Thursday, February 2, 1865

Rained all night. train all day getting in. lie in camp. drizzly rain all day. to lighten the teams all the rations are issued 2 days bread, 4 days meat to last to the Rocks. 10 wagons sent to Bluffs. Could not cross a stream which was swolen. Rain ceased at 9. P. M.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, p. 572

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, December 24, 1862

On picket guard today. Got my boots half soled. Gen. McPherson passed through here, and Logan's division is coming up and passing through. Our old brigade (Col. Stevenson's) also passed. A train came in a little after dark and was loaded with cotton. The country is stripped of everything and so we are on half rations. All the hogs and live stock have been killed. The Negroes are suffering and I think they would welcome their old masters. There are a great many leaving, a large carload left today. We have poorer fare than at any time since we enlisted.

SOURCE: Seth James Wells, The Siege of Vicksburg: From the Diary of Seth J. Wells, Including Weeks of Preparation and of Occupation After the Surrender, p. 21

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, December 25, 1862

Christmas. I came off guard duty this morning. We drew half rations for four days and part of that was cornmeal. Our coffee is rye and in small quantities at that. The boys have gone out to see if they can find a stray hog or beef for Christmas dinner. Oh! if I could be at home today.

One o'clock. We just now received marching orders to be ready tomorrow morning. Frank, Bill, Buttons and Boggs of our mess, and Ragan and Doughty of the Peacock mess, fetched in a whole beef, and a few minutes later Abe, John and Scott brought in a whole hog. If we live on half rations it will not be of meat, as we have a hog and half a beef. It is very warm and pleasant today, I lay down and took a nap, but the flies were so troublesome I could hardly sleep.

SOURCE: Seth James Wells, The Siege of Vicksburg: From the Diary of Seth J. Wells, Including Weeks of Preparation and of Occupation After the Surrender, p. 21-2

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, December 26, 1862

Warm and raining. We were astir early, cooked our breakfasts, filled our haversacks with meat and what little bread we had, and fell in about 7 o'clock. It began to rain and we had gone but a mile or two when we were wet through. We secured two ox teams, one of six oxen, and one of four, which hauled our knapsacks. The 12th Ind. is still camped on the Tallahatchie. Saw Lieut. E. Webster and Tom Anderson, they are living on quarter rations. Capt. Williams, now Colonel of the regiment, was at Holly Springs at the time it was captured and he was taken for the third time. We marched to the Yazoo Bottoms and camped on the opposite side. It rained and we were completely soaked. The ground was muddy and I looked around, found a stack of corn, dug down to the dry stalks, husked out a lot and made a bed for myself. We are, within seven miles of Holly Springs.

SOURCE: Seth James Wells, The Siege of Vicksburg: From the Diary of Seth J. Wells, Including Weeks of Preparation and of Occupation After the Surrender, p. 22

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Wednesday, June 22, 1864

The first day of the month that it has not rained. The man shot last night is carried out dead this morning. By trading some, we are enabled to increase our rations to about half we could eat under normal conditions.

Selden, the Rebel quartermaster, has set up a sutler shop on main street on the north side, with a view of absorbing Yankee money men are starved to spend. The fact that some of the stuff on sale is the same as that issued to prisoners justifies suspicion that he had a reason for cutting down our rations. He attempts to whitewash this matter by putting two prisoners in charge, Charles Huckleby, of the 8th Tennessee, and Ira Beverly, of the 100th Ohio. Nevertheless we are told by Rebel sergeants that he has a commission from Richmond. He only appears, however, once every day. These boys expect to live better while in his service, but admit that the profits are "gobbled" by Selden; that he furnishes the stuff and fixes prices. It seems an unlikely place to make money, but the few who have any spend it fast and pay high prices. While exchange in Federal money is prohibited by Rebel law, it is openly done everywhere by Rebels, and in this case by a "C. S. A." military officer. Articles in stock consist of flour, molasses, small sticks of wood, plug tobacco, a vicious sort of whisky made from sorghum. These things appeal to starved appetites of thousands; and those who have money cannot resist the temptation to let it go. Though this is poor stuff, it is better than the scant rations irregularly issued. We have to pay from 25c to $1 for an onion, 10c to 40c for miserable apples, 25c a pint for meal, 40c for wormy hog peas, 40c for 1½ pint of flour, 10c for small piece of wood. With the advent of this institution rations grow less in quantity and quality. It is simply a scheme of this Rebel quartermaster to catch greenbacks, watches, rings, and things of value which men eagerly put up. It is not instituted with a view to benefit us. If such were the object, why do they extort such prices, why are rations cut down, why are we cheated out of one day in five by not getting rations?

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 77-8

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Monday, February 24, 1862

Orders came in the afternoon to get ready to march the coming day. New knapsacks were issued, and rations kept ready for three days. Great times in camp, especially in the sixth detachment, all the rations on hand being sold to Benson's for whiskey. Who would not remember S. that evening, the stove, and O! Su!

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 33

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells: December 13, 1862

Marching orders, sure enough. We drew three days' rations this morning, with orders to have two cooked and in our haversacks, ready to march at 5 o'clock the next morning. I have a new pair of boots which I expect to break in on the march—or they will break me. We were relieved this morning by the 126th. I have a very severe cold.

SOURCE: Seth James Wells, The Siege of Vicksburg: From the Diary of Seth J. Wells, Including Weeks of Preparation and of Occupation After the Surrender, p. 16

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Tuesday, September 16, 1862

Rienzi. We were aroused this morning with the same story of march and ordered to cook three days' rations and be ready to march at 1 P. M., but did not go and all quieted down again. The 3rd Section went out in the afternoon and stationed itself at bastion No. 5 at 9 P. M. Dispatches were brought around to the effect that McClellan had captured the rebel army of Virginia including General Lee. Nothing could induce us to restrain our joy but the fear of its being false.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 5-6

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Wednesday, June 1, 1864

Scalding heat during forenoon; heavy showers follow. Water is running through camp like a flood. Prisoners reported missing, rations suspended; Rebels are making a stir on the outside.

Finished "Paradise Lost"; called on Harriman. He supplied us with Pollock's "ourse of Time." We had read this, but it is now more acceptable. In our view it is a work of more natural thought and imbibes less of the unnatural. Milton has soulstirring passages, alive with truth, significant expression and beautiful simplicity. Then he goes deeply into themes beyond most conceptions; we don't wish to not, unless this is "Paradise Lost." Confederacy when he said:

follow him, or cannot, have Did he mean the Southern

"Devils with devils damned firm concord hold."

Did he mean the North when he wrote:

"Men only disagree of creatures rational,

Though under hope of heavenly grace"

how they should save the Union?

The following lines express a truth in human experience:

"God proclaiming peace,

Yet men live in hatred, enmity and strife

Among themselves, and levy cruel wars

Wasting the earth, each other to destroy,

As if man had not hellish foes enough besides,

That day and night for his destruction wait."

Milton seems to have designed to impress the thought that man had hellish foes distinct from his race, awaiting his destruction, which originated through rebellious war in heaven. I think the causes of our troubles lie in our lack of knowledge and misconception of our social relations, wicked ambition, foolish pride, and that these lines better fit an earthly than a heavenly realm.

The usual monotony except an unusual amount of firing by sentry. Prisoners arrive daily from both our great armies. Men crowd near them to get news and hardtack; occasionally old friends meet. About half the camp draw raw meal; we are of that half this week; have the trouble of cooking it without salt or seasoning or wood, half the time. We stir it in water, bake it on plates held over a splinter fire with a stiff stick, or boil it into mush or dumplings, baking or boiling as long as fuel lasts.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 70-1

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Monday, June 14, 1864

Northeast storm badly affects weak men. I know of twenty who since yesterday have sunk to utter helplessness; others have died within a few hours. Their clothes are besmeared with wet sand and soaked with water. The sand where we lay is wet as dough. Our rations are so insufficient that we are continually hungry. Got boiled rice again at night, totally unfit to eat. Several bushels are poured into large kettles, greasy and nasty, and cooked with less care than if it were hog feed. I believe hogs would loathe it. If it is merely economy to feed us so, it is crowding them down closely to the provision line. Rumors of the renomination of Lincoln and the nomination of Fremont on a side line. It is a Rebel lie or a Yankee blunder, much talked about. If it is so, the action of the Fremont wing is disapproved. I never strongly believed in Fremont, but the cause he essayed to represent, he will not see sacrificed for per

Northeast storm. Badly affects weak ultra anti-slavery men add themselves to the pro-slavery party North, and defeat the policy of the government? They cannot succeed; they can only defeat. The feeling here is for Lincoln. Twelve men escape; it is reported six guards are gone. Tunnels are found and being filled. Rice and meal rations.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 74-5